My son is my hero . . .
When my son Clark started grade school, and began to interact with fellow students and evolve as a young child, I was of course a proud dad. I observed his triumphs, challenges, and disappointments and like any parent, wanted to be there for him in any way I could. I wanted to be his hero.
In the first grade, Clark always told me he was the fastest runner in his class. In the spring, the school had their annual “field day” and Clark was sure he would win his race. When the race was done and he didn’t win, I was torn by the emotion of the moment and the look of disappointment on his face. I think he felt he had let me down, but I did everything I could do to reassure him that he did his best, and that was the most important thing. I was inspired to write the song “You Are My Teacher”, because it occurred to me that not only are they learning from us, but WE are learning from them.
Now, fast forward about a dozen years and Clark is a freshman at Vanderbilt University in Nashville. He was initially accepted into the Arts and Sciences school, but also wanted to declare music as a second major.
Clark plays French horn, and in December, 2010, Sandy and I attended the recital of Leslie Norton’s French horn students at Vanderbilt’s Blair School of Music. As Sandy and I listened to the horn soloists that performed before Clark, who was number six on the program, I realized how good and accomplished they all were. I started to wonder if Clark was getting nervous, if he was worried about measuring up to them. He had many musical accomplishments in high school, but this was a new level, and I wondered to myself if he would be OK, if he would play to the best of his abilities and conquer his fears. After all, he was just a freshman amongst some who were upperclassmen, and music is his second major.
When it was Clark’s turn, he got up there very confidently, deciding to stand rather than sit, and calmly prepared himself, then signaled the accompanist that he was ready. He began to play, and after the first notes began coming out, I was amazed at how smooth and in-tune he was. How the sound was filling the room and the dynamics were heart-felt. The spirit of the music was in him in that moment. I don’t know whether he played it flawlessly, but if he missed something, I didn’t notice. There was clearly something different about him that set him apart from the other horn players.
One could say that I was just a proud dad (and I was), but I knew some transformation had occurred within Clark, and that inspired me. He had exceeded my expectations of him. He had made a huge leap from the last time I had heard him play in a similar setting the prior year when he was in high school.
After thinking about the performance, I realized how much he had changed and grown up since he moved into that dorm at Vanderbilt in August 2010. The confidence and the brilliance of that horn performance was a mere reflection of the man that was growing inside of him.
That night, I saw something in him that inspired me to be better at who I am, and to be the best I can be. Clark is my hero!
